The bedrooms were just off the main room with the massive fireplace, but a hallway extended so far away that the end was lost to view. Prin counted ten doors on each side before they blurred in the distance. She promised herself a trip to the end of the hall when she had time.
Inside each room was a bed, dresser, chest of drawers, and a pair of chairs with a small table between. Each room had a set of double doors leading outside into the garden. Stepping stones formed winding trails past pools with fish swimming, trees with fruit hanging, and the entire garden was walled so nothing inside it could be seen from the street or any nearby house.
Prin detected a now familiar shimmer of magic at the top of the wall that was short enough for a household ladder to reach the top. She asked Maude what the shimmer did.
“Oh, that’s just a wall of dislike, a simple spell most anyone can cast.”
“I don’t know what that is, or what it means,” Prin said.
Maude rubbed her hands together as if they were sharing a conspiracy, which they were. She said, “It’s too hard to make people stay away. I mean burglars and such. So, what the top of my wall does is to convince them that what is in here is harmful in some way. Some people see big angry dogs, others poison oak or ivy, and some see household guards with their swords drawn. Whatever they don’t want is what they see, so they go away without looking.”
Sara said, “So a man in a bad marriage might look in here and see twenty of his wives?”
“Well, that’s one I hadn’t considered,” Maude said, laughing, “But that sure would keep out a few.”
Prin said, “Are we free to roam around the garden? Is there anything to hurt us?”
“Oh, I don’t think there’s anything to be afraid of. The mage might watch his step here and there, so he doesn’t trip a spell, but you two will see the magic before you reach it.”
“My father was a mage,” Prin said. “In his apartment at the king’s castle, he a workspace for his things, and his studies.”
“That explains a lot,” Maude said.
“That he has a workspace?” Prin asked.
“No, I was talking about explaining about you, dear. Sara here, is a sorceress, one I believe with superior abilities, if not yet honed. Brice is a fledgling mage, but you can never tell what they will become until they reach their mid-years, at least thirty. But you, you are a strange one. You have not learned how to wield your powers, but I would not wish to anger you.”
“I’m just a little girl.”
Maude furrowed her brow. “And a tiger-scorpion with a sting that kills a man in ten heartbeats is just a little insect—an arachnid if you want to be precise. Yes, you are just a little girl, you say. To answer your question about my workshop and teaching you, I’d like to ask one in return so I can prepare a curriculum, of sorts. What is your timeline? I mean, how long do you wish to live here?”
Prin said, “Would thirty or forty days be too long?”
“I was hoping for more,” Maude said. “Oh well, anyone else hungry?”
She escorted them to a small, informal dining room, the table for four laden with food. Two roasted chickens lay steaming on small platters, carrots filled a bowl, peas another. Three kinds of bread fresh from warming ovens sat beside bowls, butter and two different kinds of preserves. At each of the four places was a small knife and two-pronged fork.
How it was cooked, arrived on the table, and a hundred other questions leaped into Prin’s mind, but she caught the scent of the food, and how it got there became far less important. They sat down and devoured the food. For her part, Prin tried to use manners, as she’d seen other nobles do, but failed. It was the best food she’d eaten in her life, and when soft-cakes smothered in ripe strawberries, and sweet cream appeared on a side table, she believed there could be no place better than at that table.
After dinner, they adjourned to the main room, where candles now burned. Maude reached for her knitting and asked questions of each of them, and as Prin watched her hands leave the knitting needles to reach for something, the needles continued to knit without dropping a single stitch.
The woman who seemed a doddering old fool, asked penetrating questions about each of them, as she heard their stories. She often listened, then asked what had not been shared, as if she could see into the minds and what they wished to hide or leave unsaid. It would be no fun to be this woman’s child.
When Prin went to use the outhouse, she decided to clean the kitchen for Maude when she returned, however, the table was already cleared, a new tablecloth in place, and even the chairs were carefully placed under the table, each lined in perfect order with the others. When she peeked into the kitchen, it was as clean as any she’d ever seen, no dirty tub of water, no dishes, and even the floor sparkled.
It didn’t surprise her.
Maude hadn’t left them to cook, so why would she do so to clean? She had told them as much when she said dust was not allowed in the house. While some sorceress might concentrate on solving the personal problems of others, Maude took care of herself.
Back in the main room, Sara said, “That was an incredible meal. I know you want to hear our stories, but I’d like to ask a couple of questions.”
Maude said, “Don’t make them too personal, and I’ll try to answer.”
“There are spells all over the house. I think some are old. But the spells I know fade with time. Can you explain?” Sara asked.
Maude chuckled and held her arms out wide. “Your question tells me the answer to a question I mentioned before dinner. I must develop a course of study for the three of you but needed a starting point. From your question, I assume you have never studied formally, and if informally, only for a short time.”
“Not even that much for me,” Prin said.
Brice said nothing but drew the steady gaze of Maude. “You?”
“Until a yesterday, I just knew I was different, and that I upset people.”
“Ah, that explains even more,” Maude said. “Interesting.”
Prin hadn’t expected that reaction. Brice was a mage, an entirely different set of rules applied to him. She said, “You can teach Brice, too?”
Maude said, “I believe that it’s time the three of you learned what is the most basic of concepts, and they apply to all magic.” She lifted her teacup, sipped and said, “It’s cooled.”
Then she waited.
Sara realized they should respond and with a smile, she said, “What did you expect? That it would remain hot?”
Maude turned to her. “The spells for attracting love you sold, how long did they last?”
“The good ones, a few days.”
“Why not a lifetime?”
Sara was seated on the end of a sofa. Perched on the edge would be more accurate. The woman had Sara’s total concentration, and Prin settled back to watch. She didn’t know what the two of them were trying to communicate but understood it to be important.
Sara finally answered, “Spells wear out.”
“All of them?”
“All that I know,” Sara said.
“As sorceresses and mages, we can neither create nor destroy the basics of the world around us. We alter or concentrate, no more. No less.” Maude held her teacup up higher. “My tea was hot, now it is warm. Soon it will be the same temperature as this room. If I pour it out and fetch cool water from a spring in my cup, it will be almost cold, but over time it will also return to its natural temperature of this room.”
“What about explosions?” Prin asked. “I saw my father make them.”